


18th of December - Part 2

by batkat



Series: A Bewitching Christmas [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Nagini attacks Arthur, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, St. Mungo's Healers (Harry Potter), god this chapter took me several glasses of wine and hot chocolate, serious yearning involved, the tension is Through the Roof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28271373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batkat/pseuds/batkat
Summary: In which reader and Remus get closer to the truth but all hell breaks loose.Reader has attended Hogwarts with the Marauders. After James and Lily's death reader became an Auror and is now working as a spy for the Order. It's the beginning of December and another Order meeting has been scheduled to take place. Sirius does something daring and cheeky and ropes Reader into spending Christmas with him. Little did they know that Arthur Weasley would be attacked by Nagini, resulting in the Weasleys spending Christmas at Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place. The fact that Remus joins them and that Reader and Remus have a complicated relationship makes things... difficult to say the least.This Christmas series follows the events taking place in December during the "HP and The Order of the Phoenix" timeline with some slight changes.The names of the individual chapters correspond with the days during which the story takes place.
Relationships: Remus Lupin & Reader, Remus Lupin/Reader, remus lupin x reader
Series: A Bewitching Christmas [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043187
Kudos: 19





	18th of December - Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> This took me what feel like ages but I'm glad to get this one out before Christmas!  
> Please let me know what you think and remember: "A little kudos never hurt nobody" or however that song goes.  
> __________  
> I am a huge fan of Christmas and Remus Lupin and this series is the result of my obsessions.  
> I am not a native English speaker, so mistakes are likely to occur. Constructive criticism is always appreciated and you're welcome to point out any grammatical errors etc.
> 
> Last but not least: TRANS WOMEN ARE WOMEN. There is nothing better than taking the HP world into our hands - the fans' hands - and turning it into something beautiful, inclusive and diverse. At all my trans readers: I see you and I appreciate you and you are worthy.

You dreamt of wooden doors that opened into corridors lined with the severed heads of elves and goblins, of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley waltzing in the Hogwarts kitchens, and of big, black dogs holding pink handbags in their mouths.

You woke with a start and it took you a few seconds to remember where you were. Yawning, you rolled over in your bed, reaching for the pocket watch you had placed on the bedside table. It was a quarter past six.

You sat up on the side of the bed. With a snap of your fingers, the curtain drew back. It was already dark outside, the only light source was the row of street lights surrounding Grimmauld Place. You shuffled over to the window and blinked. It was snowing. The snowflakes were tiny, dancing in the meek artificial night, slowly settling on cars and trees, bushes, and unkempt lawns.

 _Snow is one of those things that feel like magic even though they aren’t_ , Lily had always said and you smiled at the memory of her sitting on a windowsill in the Gryffindor common room, watching the snow outside with a twinkle in her eyes.

You turned around to get dressed. Standing in front of the old dresser that served as your wardrobe, you decided on a comfy pair of sweatpants and the knitted sweater you had brought from your apartment. It was the one Remus had given you for your birthday in Year Five. It still fit, though the bold Gryffindor-red had washed out already. It was faded, soft from wearing it too often, but it was one of the only things you had carried with you - from your old life into your new one. You buried your nose in the wool, trying to remember how it had smelled when Remus had first given it to you. Like chocolate and butterbeer and pumpkin pie. That smell was long gone, of course; replaced by the faint scent of the citrus detergent you regularly used.

You pulled it over your head, fondly smoothing down the sleeves. Because you felt the cold creeping up through the floorboard, you put on another pair of socks. Tonks had given them to you last Christmas and they had little squirrels and ravens with Santa hats on them. Shoving your wand into your pocket - you briefly thought about putting it behind your ear, but ultimately decided against it, knowing that Molly and Remus would disapprove - and opened the door to step into the hallway, nearly colliding with Sirius.

“Hey, Claws”, he grinned. “Had a good long beauty sleep?”

You grimaced. “As a matter of fact, I had.”

“Nice sweater”, he said as you descended the stairs. “Reminds me of something.”

“Shut up”, you said and made to elbow him, though he cleverly avoided getting hit.

“Has Arthur already left?”

“Yeah, a good ten minutes ago. Said he wanted to be there earlier to smooth things over with Kingsley.”

You cringed inwardly. It had cost the wizard weeks to perfect the rota and you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at the thought that you had so readily agreed to Arthur taking your shift.

“No wands”, you reminded him as you reached the hallway.

“Are you mad?”, he asked incredulously. “Even if Voldemort himself came in here to duel with me I would politely ask him to move to another room, lest my mother start screaming our ears off. Though she would probably be in raptures about his appearance.”

“Not funny, Sirius”, you chastised him but you couldn’t keep from grinning at the thought.

You entered the living room, warily eyeing the silver snakes that functioned as door openers. The long wooden table was still there, but instead of a dozen chairs there were only three now and the table was empty except for a tray of tea and a small plate with ginger cookies.

Remus sat in one of the two chairs opposite the door, engrossed in a book. He looked up when you came in, a smile on his face when his gaze wandered over you and fell on your sweater. 

“You still have it”, he said and sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t thought it likely that you would keep it. As if it wasn’t one of your most treasured items.

 _It’s my favourite_ , you wanted to say.

“Of course.”

Before Sirius could try any of his tricks and before Remus could ask more questions, you sat down on the chair opposite Remus, which left Sirius to take a seat next to his old friend.

When one of the teacups floated toward you, you picked it out of the air and set it down in front of you.

“Revelio”, you said, poking the teacup with your wand. Nothing happened.

With a relieved sigh you allowed yourself to take a sip, enjoying the bitter and rich taste.

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“What was that about?”

“She doesn’t trust me anymore”, said Sirius.

“Sirius tried to poison me”, you coolly said at the same time.

“That is not true”, protested Sirius, indignant. “It wasn’t poison, it was truth serum. And I didn't poison you, I merely drugged you!”

“Using Veritaserum against an unsuspecting witch, wizard, Muggle or other magical creatures is against the law”, you recited.

“You didn't mind us using it when we played _Spin the bottle_ in the common room _,_ a game _you_ introduced us to.”

“That was different”, you scowled. “Then, everyone who played knew we were using it.”

“You didn't play that often”, remarked Remus.

“Because James loved assigning me the most embarrassing ‘dare’ tasks”, you snorted, though you knew it was only a half-truth.

“That was in Year Six, wasn't it? “, asked Sirius, seemingly lost in thoughts.

“Could be”, you said.

Another half-truth. Because you remembered exactly when it was that you had stopped joining them in their weekly game.

It was the year in which everything had turned to ash. In which Remus and you had drifted apart like sheets of ice.

You had spent half of your summer holidays before the start of the new term at the Potter’s, camping out in their garden with Sirius. It had been one of the best summers of your life but without Remus, you had grown restless. You had longed to be reunited with your best friend which had made you look forward to the new term with unusual eagerness.

But then, everything had changed.

At first, you hadn't really noticed it. You had put Remus’ behaviour down to the full moon that had occurred right at the beginning of the term, had made excuses for his strange conduct until things kept repeating themselves. Until he left your study sessions at the library earlier and earlier, before refraining from showing up at all. There were no more casual hugs or midnight excursions to the kitchens making pancakes. No more sharing the same couch in the common room while reading. The easy air that had always surrounded you was gone, had been replaced by something awkward and cold. When you were with the others he was nice and kind as always; he would laugh about your jokes and smile, but the ease and innocence that had always prevailed between the two of you were gone. It was as if your five years of friendship had been erased within a few weeks. And the worst of it had been that Remus didn't ignore you, he simply became indifferent to you.

That year, in the first Potions lesson after the half-term holidays, you had smelled Amortentia for the first time. It had smelled of chocolate, old books, and the Forbidden Forest on a full moon. The realisation had burnt a hole in your chest.

Then one night, when the Marauders, Lily, and you had been listlessly hanging around the Gryffindor room, Sirius and James had begun pestering you to introduce _Spin the bottle_ to the others, a game you had shown the boys during the summer holidays. It was a game you remembered from elementary school. It was simple, really. Every participant sat in a circle facing the others. An empty bottle was placed in the middle and starting with one person, everyone had the chance to spin it once. Whoever it was the bottle pointed at after it stopped spinning had to choose between ‘truth’ or ‘dare’. Skipping was only allowed twice, then you were out. The person who'd spun the bottle would then choose a task (in case the other one chose _dare_ ) or ask a difficult or personal question (if the other chose _truth_ ). James and Sirius had been immediately taken by the game. That night, you'd played until the early hours of the morning, with Sirius and James always trying to best each other, daring each other to do the most ridiculous tasks, like trying to flirt with every portrait in the room, eating hot coals from the fire, singing the Hogwarts hymn while doing cartwheels. Their tasks had become so abstruse that after a time whenever you played the game, Remus, Peter, Lily and you would often go for _truth_ rather than _dare_. That was when Lily had the idea of making everyone who wanted to participate drink Veritaserum.

“It adds a little spice”, she had said with a wild gleam in her eyes, pulling a vial with the colourless liquid out of her pockets. “Nicked it from Slughorn”, and she had thrown her head back with a laugh. And even though you had objected to her idea in silence, even though you hadn't wanted to continue playing, you agreed. Until one night, when it had been your turn and you had stupidly chosen “dare” and Sirius had asked you to snog who you thought was the most handsome person in the room. A typical Sirius question, spurred by pure arrogance and the never-ceasing desire to stir up trouble. It was only then that you had experienced how dangerous even the combination of _dare_ and truth serum could be. Actions didn’t require talking, so it was easier to keep the truth bottled up inside you. The potion couldn’t force you to _speak_ , but it could still affect the truth of one’s actions. And even though every fibre in your body, aided by the truth serum, had commanded you to go over where Remus had sat, even though you wanted nothing more but for him to look at you and smile and laugh it off, you had chosen Sirius. Because Remus had barely looked at you since the new term had begun. Because you had been sure that the last thing he wanted was for someone he couldn't even bear to touch any longer, to kiss him in front of the others. 

Trying to convince the others that you were telling the truth had been easy, even though your legs had felt like they were made out of lead, even though you had to bite your tongue until you tasted your own blood to refrain from shouting that you weren’t telling the truth.

It had been over quickly, just a peg on the lips, which Sirius had acknowledged with a cat-like smile, safe in the knowledge that you thought him the most handsome person in the room, but the lie had left a sour aftertaste.

You remembered that you had tried to avoid looking at Remus upon sitting down again and you also remembered that despite it all, you had got a glimpse at the boy's face. He had looked charming and polite as ever, but there had been a pain and bitterness in his eyes. That had been the last time you ever played that game again.

“Claws, you okay?”, asked Sirius.

“Er, yeah, sorry”, you said, shaking off the memories.

“I asked whether you’re up for a game of exploding snap.” He pulled a set of playing cards out of his pockets.

“Always”, you said with a laugh. “If only to see Remus set fire to his eyebrows once again.”

Remus coughed. “I believe back in school you were always the one with singed eyebrows.”

“Yeah, because Lily and James cheated like there was no tomorrow”.

Remus closed his book and put it away to make room for Sirius dealing the cards.

“Well, we all cheated now and then, didn’t we?”, said Sirius with a wink.

“Me? Never!”, you said with mock seriousness, picking up your cards.

You spent a few hours that way, playing until there were only a few cards left unscathed. Sirius dramatically put down his last card, which immediately blew up, scorching his right hand. His facial expression had Remus and you in fits of laughter until Sirius got up.

“Alright, alright, I lost this one.” 

“Yes, and I heard the loser has to make dinner”, Remus grinned. He seemed relaxed, his green-brown eyes brimming with amusement.

“Oh, yes”, you chimed in. “But something that is actually edible, please.”

Sirius made a low bow. “Your wish is my command. I shall scour the kitchen for something more than crumbs of bread and water.

Meanwhile…”, he waved his wand towards the tea tray that instantly transformed into a bottle of firewhiskey and three tumblers.

“The only sensible idea you had all day”, you chuckled and waved Sirius off.

“Leave something for me!”, he shouted over his shoulder from out of the hallway. 

You grabbed a glass, nodding towards the door.

“Let’s move to the dining room?”

Remus smiled. “Yeah sure.”

Thanks to the fire it was much warmer and cozier in the other room. With a sigh, you let yourself fall on the brocade couch that was facing the fireplace. You took a sip of the firewhiskey, enjoying the hot trail of fire it left in your mouth and throat. Remus chose one of the armchairs and as he turned his face toward the warmth of the fire, you couldn’t help but _look_ at him. Your eyes trailed over the strands of hair that fell into his eyes, over the even bridge of his nose and his scars - one just below his left eye, one on his chin, and the last, the longest one, that went from his left eyebrow all the way down to his right cheek.

You knew that they were one of the main reasons why Remus had been considered ‘shy’ by your classmates and teachers. He hated it, when anyone was staring at his scars for too long, hated it, how the others had turned around to him whenever he had something in class. But for you, they had been just that, scars. They belonged to him like his smell of chocolate and his love for books.

“So”, Remus began. You quickly looked away when he set his eyes on you.

“Junior Assistant...” He trailed off, letting the word hang in the air.

“Yeah”. You ran your finger along the rim of your glass. “It was quite unexpected.”

“Are you going to take the job?”

You shrugged, watching the flames bend and arch, dancing hungrily over the logs.

“Alastor wants me to, for the Order, so I’ll probably take it.”

Remus put his glass down and leaned forward. “Let me rephrase my question then: Do you want to take it?”

Another shrug. A longer silence. Then…

“No.”

It was of no use to lie to Remus. Somehow, he always found out.

“Ah.” He leaned back in his seat.

You waited for him to say something else, to continue questioning you why you were still working for Fudge, the way Sirius would have done - and did, you remember darkly - but Remus stayed silent.

You took another long sip of your drink. You were beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol as a soothing warmth began to spread through your belly.

“What about you?”, you ask after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“I was in Scotland for the last few months. Working, trying to recruit more members for the Order.” He paused. “I spent some time with a pack up there.”

“And how’s work?”, you asked, rather jokingly, though the coat you’d seen outside had told you everything you had to know. It was difficult to keep a steady job if you kept disappearing on a full moon every month.

You quickly tried another question before things could become more embarrassing.

“Are you seeing someone right now?”

It was a slip, a stupid remark you hadn’t intended to ask but now that you’d said it you couldn’t take it back.

Remus attempted something that sounded like a snort.

“Kind of difficult, isn’t it?”

“Oh, please”, you said without looking up, instead you stared into the bottom of your now nearly empty glass.

“What?”

“You think it's so funny when you get asked that question as if it were inconceivable that someone could like you.”

Remus made to interject, but you pressed on. “You always thought we were the only ones who could really accept you, who _liked_ you.”

“Because that’s how it was.” 

“No”, you said with a sad smile. “You just never noticed because you couldn’t believe that there were others who liked you for who you are.”

“Who?”, he asked, sounding strained. “I don’t recall-”

“Katie Hopkirk, the Hufflepuff girl. Bertha Doreen, she was one year below us and Ludo Marchbanks, a Hufflepuff you sat next to in Herbology in Year Six.”

“You remember where I sat in Herbology?”

You stared at him. “That’s what you’ve taken away from what I said?”

“I never noticed them.”

“Because you thought that no one could love someone like you, even though you had us to prove you wrong every damn day!”

You didn’t know what had made you so aggressive. Maybe it was the firewhiskey, or the disbelief in Remus’ voice at the thought of someone willingly wanting to spend time with him, maybe it was just the way you had kept all these things inside you for years - all the anger and frustration over watching Remus always make himself smaller, of trying to fold himself away and hide from the eyes of others, of not believing in himself and instead mourn all the things he wasn’t.

Remus winced as if you had dealt him a physical blow.

“I’m sorry”, he said.

“For what?”

“For how I acted that entire year-”

“Don’t.” You suddenly felt very tired. You let your head fall back against the couch’s backrest. You had learned that it was better to not open old wounds. It was better to not think about that awful year where you had felt so alone and had been hurting so much. Whatever Remus and you had right now, it was a thing too brittle, too fragile to risk for conjuring up memories of the past. You had always wondered why he had cut you out of his life so suddenly, why he had never bothered with an explanation. You had dreamt about facing him, demanding an answer for all the questions that used to keep you awake at night, but you knew that it would be much worse to drag up all the stuff you had sworn to leave behind. It would hurt too much and you had spent too long picking yourself back up again to have Remus tear down your walls once more. Looking forward, not backward, was the only way, and perhaps you and Remus could be friends again.

“No, listen to me”, Remus said and there was a sudden urgency to his voice. You squinted at him.

“I never really explained why I acted that way-”

“Dinner!”, said Sirius’ voice.

He was holding his wand high in front of him, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches on its tip.

Remus exhaled. “Great timing, Padfoot.”

There was no anger in his voice, only disappointment, and exhaustion.

You longed to ask him what it was he had wanted to say but the opportunity had passed.

Instead, you grabbed yourself a sandwich, avoiding Remus’ gaze that still lingered on you.

“You did not make these sandwiches”, you said after taking a bite, trying to distract Sirius from the awkward atmosphere in the room.

“Are you accusing me of lying to you?”

“I’ve eaten half of this sandwich and I’m still not lying on the floor, holding my stomach”, you said dryly.

Remus helped himself to a cucumber sandwich. “Come on, you can just tell us that you asked Molly to make some.”

“Fine”, Sirius admitted, throwing himself theatrically onto the couch. “I just didn’t want to poison you-”

“Again-”, you interjected.

“I just didn’t want to poison you on our first evening being here together.”

“Aww, it’s alright”, you said, affectionately patting Sirius’ arm. “You may not be able to cook, but you’re the pretty one.”

Remus snorted, Sirius laughed, and for a while, you could pretend that everything was alright, that Lily’s and James’s deaths hadn’t left a gaping hole behind.

It was half-past eleven when you decided to call it a day. Remus let the empty tray disappear with a flick of his wand and Sirius murmured something about letting Kreacher do the dishes to give him something to do other than spy on everyone before he left the room. You and Remus followed shortly after, and you slowed your steps in front of the stairs that led up to the first floor. The light of the sconces had been dimmed so that when you turned around, you could only make out parts of his face.

“About earlier…”, Remus began. “What I wanted to say was-”

“SIRIUS BLACK”, called a voice to your left.

You jumped.

“Merlin’s beard, what was that?”

“As if you had never noticed me, young lady”, said a resentful voice.

An elderly wizard had appeared in the empty picture frame that hung on the wall. He wore a huge black hat and blinked at you with feigned surprise.

“What is it, Phineas?”, asked Remus coolly.

“This message is for Sirius Black only”, said Phineas Nigellus Black dismissively.

“It might be of interest to the wife of Arthur Weasley as well.”

“Arthur”, you choked.

“Molly! Sirius!”, Remus hollered up the stairs.

“What is it?”, you asked through clenched teeth.

Phineas’ second portrait hung in Dumbledore’s office. There could only be one reason why Dumbledore would send Phineas to deliver a message in the middle of the night.

“Oh, God”, you whispered.

“Speak!”, demanded Remus, his wand at the ready. At the same time, you heard Sirius crashing down the stairs, followed by Molly, who had hurriedly thrown a dressing gown over her pajamas.

“Molly Weasley, Sirius Black, Dumbledore has asked me to tell you that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured. Your children, Molly, and Harry Potter will shortly arrive at your house. Would that be of any inconvenience for you, great-great-grandson?”

All colour drained from Molly’s face.

“Tell Dumbledore they can come”, bellowed Sirius.

Phineas bowed and disappeared once again.

“Molly, I-”, you began when there was a commotion in the kitchen, followed by several voices talking over each other.

“Children!”, Molly called and hurried down the stairs, through the doors, and into the kitchen.

Remus, Sirius, and you followed her in an instant.

You pushed the door open and in the gloomy light the fire and one guttering candle provided, saw Fred and George, Ron, Ginny, and Harry appear out of thin air, all of them still clutching to a blackened old kettle.

“Back again, the blood-traitor brats. Is it true their father is dying?”, came a voice from a corner.

_Kreacher._

“OUT!”, Sirius and you roared at the same time.

The elf hitched up his loincloth and made for the door, though not without giving Molly and the Weasley children a last, wicked smile.

“What’s going on?”, asked Remus, stretching out a hand to help Harry up. “Phineas Niggelus said Arthur was badly injured-”

“We don’t know either”, said George, looking expectantly at Harry.

“Harry, what is it?”, asked Molly, her voice two octaves higher than usual.

“It was-”, the boy began. “I was dreaming and there was this empty corridor and there was a door at the end and Mr. Weasley was there and he was sleeping, then he woke up…”, here Harry hesitated. “There was a huge snake and it bit him, there was blood everywhere…” Harry, who looked so much like James, was breathing heavily now. It took him a few seconds to calm down and tell you the whole story.

“Mrs. Weasley”, he began, though the witch had already withdrawn her wand and exchanged her sleeping attire for a different set of clothes.

“Where is he, Harry?”, she asked, her voice full of panic.

“Where is Arthur?”

“I don’t- Dumbledore said St. Mungo’s, I don’t-”, but Molly had already apparated.

“Molly, no!”, called Sirius but it was too late.

“We’ve got to follow her!”, said Ginny urgently. She looked around at her brothers and Harry, all still in their pyjamas.

“Sirius, we need cloaks, broomsticks-”, began Fred.

“You can’t just go to St. Mungo’s!”, said Remus.

“‘Course we can!”, said Ron heatedly. “That’s our dad you’re talking about!”

“And how would you explain to them that you knew of the attack? Even Molly disappearing before they sent her an official message could get the Order and Dumbledore into serious trouble!”

“I don’t give a piping shit about what kind of trouble Dumble could get into”, growled Fred.

“Do you care about Harry?”, hissed Sirius. “Do you want the Ministry to know that he’s been having visions of stuff that is happening hundreds of miles away? The circumstances are fishy enough, you could seriously damage the Order’s”

“We don’t care about the damn Order!”, yelled George.

“Your father knew what he was getting into when he joined the Order”, shouted Sirius. He closed his eyes for a brief second.

“Listen, you don’t understand, they are things worth dying for and your dad-”

“Yes”, Ron snorted with rage. “Easy to say for someone who has been hiding inside his house for the past-”

“ENOUGH!”; roared Remus.

You took two small steps backward, away from Sirius and Harry and the Weasley siblings. Cold, hard realisation washed over you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

_I was supposed to stand guard tonight. This was supposed to be me. Arthur was attacked because of me._

You put your hand against the wall to keep your legs from giving in. You felt bile rising in your throat. Arthur, lying on the floor of Level 9, white and lifeless. You couldn’t keep the images from flooding your mind.

_No, no, no, no, NO._

Remus threw you a quick glance.

“We have to stay put now, act as though we don’t know anything yet. We need to wait until we hear from your mother.”

Fred and George drew a deep breath, looking as if they were trying to hold in a torrent of obscenities. Ginny was the first one to move, sinking down on one of the kitchen chairs. Harry and Ron followed, and eventually, Fred and George took their seats as well.

“That’s right”, said Sirius, trying to keep his voice light. “Let’s have a drink or two while we’re waiting. Accio Butterbeer!”

He raised his wand and half a dozen bottles came flying out of the pantry. They skidded along the table, stopping neatly in front of the Weasley siblings and Harry.

The sweet smell made you feel sick and you averted your eyes. There was nothing you could do to keep yourself occupied. Hot guilt was bubbling in your stomach like magma.

_If only I hadn’t accepted his suggestion to change the schedule. If only I had said something-_

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a hand on your arm.

You looked up to find Remus watching you intently.

' _Don’t you dare blame yourself for this_ ', his eyes seemed to say and you wanted to laugh, to cry, because he knew so damn well.

Suddenly, a burst of fire in midair and a scroll of parchment fell on the table, together with a single golden phoenix tail feather.

“Fawkes!”, said Fred, snatching up the parchment before Sirius had any chance to.

“It’s mum!” He continued reading the message out loud: “I am at St. Mungo’s, your dad is still alive. Will update you as soon as possible. Stay where you are.”

Ginny gasped. “Still alive? But that sounds like-”

“Like he might not make it”, finished Ron darkly. He was a sickly shade of white, his hands, although clutching his Butterbeer bottle, were shaking.

Suddenly, the clock on the wall struck midnight but your eyes were focused on the Weasley family watch. The hand with Arthur’s face pointed at ‘mortal peril’.


End file.
